Equilibrium in Vertigo
by Frog-kun
Summary: Prequel to the series. A disillusioned Kuroko has quit Teikou's basketball team. A disillusioned Aomine wants to quit basketball altogether. Momoi feels powerless to change their minds, but can she make a difference? Complete.
1. one

**Warning: **Strong language and sexual themes. I debated with myself between making it a T or an M-rated story and decided that it's probably somewhere in the middle. I have also decided to refer to the three main characters by their first names in this story. Somehow, I felt this was more appropriate.

* * *

"… _there'd be a natural ebb and flow that reminded you of how rhythmic and musical basketball is supposed to be." _ - Bill Russell, five-time NBA Most Valuable Player, when describing the Zone.

* * *

When Aomine Daiki was a grade schooler, he had a habit of laughing at the wrong moments. He just couldn't help himself. He was a rascal, plain and simple, and whenever he got into mischief, he grinned and barked in laughter and gave himself away immediately. Momoi Satsuki grew up knowing the sound of his laughter the same way she knew the sound of a basketball bouncing against the pavement. Even years later, when she listened to the sounds of streetball, she sometimes closed her eyes and imagined she could still hear Daiki's laughter ringing out amid hollow thuds.

When Daiki was young, he had two distinct ways of laughing: The first was the one he did whenever he thought something was uproariously funny; invariably, he would double over and point, all the while snorting and hiccoughing uncontrollably. Usually, he laughed like that when he played a prank on Satsuki, and she would stand with her hands on her hips and huff and fume at him, thinking she would never forgive him _ever_. His second laugh was the sheepish one he did whenever someone told him off. Daiki never said sorry, but the laugh always said it for him. And even if it infuriated Satsuki that he laughed when she was mad, she always did end up forgiving him after all, because, really, what else could you do?

When Daiki stopped laughing, his second type of laughter was the one that dwindled away first. His first type came back, but only as a wholly unrecognisable beast.

For Satsuki, when Daiki's laughter became scornful and filled to the brim with malice, it felt like time stopped altogether.

_This is a story.  
Let's call it:  
__**Equilibrium in Vertigo  
**__because, did you know, the Earth moves faster than any rocket we've ever built?  
And we've never felt it once,  
even though it's been under our feet this whole time?_**  
**

* * *

**one;**

* * *

Teikou Middle School's basketball club was at its peak when Kuroko Tetsuya resigned. He vanished as if he had never been there to begin with – noiselessly, inconspicuously, a cause of no fuss or drama. He spoke some quiet words to the captain and after that, he just never came back.

Satsuki still saw him around in school, usually just sitting in the library reading a book quietly. He had always been hard to notice, but after he left the basketball club, it was almost like he had dropped off the face of the planet altogether. Even Satsuki, who knew all the members of the Generation of Miracles like the back of her own hand, had to really look to find him. As for Daiki, he just didn't bother.

("Tetsu-kun's in the library," Satsuki told him brightly. "Why don't we go talk to him, Dai-chan?"

"Nah, don't feel like it," Daiki retorted with a yawn. "I've been here for three years and I've never been to the library once. I'm on a roll."

"What roll?" Satsuki snorted.

"I haven't even opened a book this year," Daiki said smugly. "Not even my textbook."

"That's not something you should be happy about…")

So in the end, Satsuki would go to see Tetsuya by herself, and when she did, she would tell herself that _it's fine, it's fine, we're all fine_. When she approached him for the first time, she hugged him tightly around his waist and said, "I missed you, Tetsu-kun! Why'd you quit the team like that? I've been so lonely!"

It was a barrage of words that tumbled sloppily out of her mouth and onto his ears, and even she couldn't detect much meaning in what she said. Tetsuya just sat there placidly and digested it all slowly, his expression neutral.

"Momoi-san, you mustn't speak so loudly in the library," he said, closing his book.

Satsuki giggled – _same old Tetsu-kun_. The thought relieved her. "I'm sorry," she said, sitting down beside him. "But, you know, I do miss you. We all do. Even Midorin, I bet."

"Somehow, I doubt that," said Tetsuya.

"Okay, so maybe that was pushing it a little," Satsuki conceded. Sitting up straight, she stretched, and as she did, she searched a little blindly for something to say. Her woman's intuition told her that Tetsuya did not want company right now and she never doubted her intuition. Even so…

"Why did you leave, Tetsu-kun? I mean, I guess I kind of understand, but…"

"Momoi-san."

He had that quiet way of speaking that made her want to hang on to every word he said. It wasn't that he whispered – you could just tell that he chose his words very carefully. When he spoke, it seemed everything went a little quiet around her ears.

"I quit because I don't like basketball anymore."

They were the words she expected to hear, but even so, they broke her heart. She knew what kind of team Teikou had become. As the manager, she'd played her part in making it become like that.

For the first time, Satsuki found she was unable to look Tetsuya in the eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Tetsu-kun."

"No, it's fine."

For a moment after that, he did not say anything, which made Satsuki think he was finished talking. But then he went on:

"I'm envious of you, Momoi-san."

"Really?" she said in surprise. "Why?"

"Because you still love basketball," he explained. "I can tell. You love it more than any of us."

By 'any of us', he was talking about the Generation of Miracles, or _her boys_, as she liked to think of them. She laughed and scratched her ear, tossing a strand of her long pink hair over her shoulder. "I always did love watching you all grow," she said, chuckling a little. "Even if it's a little scary at times."

Tetsuya tilted his head to look at her and his mouth curled up slightly into a small smile. His smile held no promises, though, just a hint of nostalgia that she knew she returned when she smiled back at him.

Tetsuya was not by conventional standards very handsome. His plainness was almost striking in a way, in that she found herself focusing her attention on him because it was just so hard to notice him normally. Tetsuya had the kind of face that grew on you the more you looked at it. He was good-looking because there was nothing ugly about him.

"Tetsu-kun, I love you!" she squealed suddenly, unable to contain herself any longer. "You're so _cute_! Kyaaaaaa!"

A stern cough interrupted her squealing. Satsuki turned around to see the dour-faced librarian, who seemed even less amused than usual.

"I told you that you mustn't raise your voice in a library," said Tetsuya, as he watched the librarian drag Satsuki out the door.

* * *

For Satsuki, basketball reminded her of a long summer afternoon where she could feel the sun's lazy heat trickle across her face and settle into bubbling contentment inside her stomach. It made her think of ice cream and the chirping of cicadas and summer festivals, of outdoor adventures and the warm hand and broad back of an older brother she never had.

Satsuki got into basketball the same way Daiki did, which is to say she had no idea how it all started. Sometimes, she wondered if she and Daiki were born with basketballs in hand. It wasn't that she actually _played _basketball herself; her earliest childhood memories were of her watching Daiki score dunks in a makeshift hoop he had set up in his backyard. She wasn't sure how many hours a day she sat in attention, mesmerised by Daiki and his basketball. Later on, when she became exposed to competitive basketball, she would only become more convinced of Daiki's inherent genius. Even later, she became conscious of her own genius – in being able to predict just where he would go from there.

In the end, Tetsuya was right: when it came to the Generation of Miracles, Satsuki was the only one who still loved basketball with the same all-consuming passion she had in her childhood. After the last tournament and Tetsuya's resignation, however, things in Teikou's basketball team were just never the same. Or maybe it had never been the same to begin with.

As it turned out, the final nail in the coffin came from Daiki.

There was no real point in attending club practice once the last tournament was over, but Teikou enforced it anyway. Victory for next year was the primary thought in mind. The Generation of Miracles was graduating and even though next year's team had absolutely no hope of being as strong, Satsuki held no doubt that they would continue to reign as kings. The remaining members of the Generation of Miracles turned up to every practice with the sole intent of passing down their skills and techniques. Except for Daiki, of course. Daiki was always the exception, never the rule.

As usual, Satsuki found him stretched out lazily on the school rooftop. It had quickly become his favourite haunt whenever he played truant.

"You didn't come to practice," she said to him a little sadly as she smoothed over her skirt and sat down beside him.

He was staring lethargically up at the opaque blue sky and only grunted in reply.

"It was the last practice of the year, you know," Satsuki went on, glancing meaningfully at him. "I thought you'd come to that, at least."

"I have better things to do," said Daiki simply, and rolled over.

"What, like sitting around scratching your ass all day?"

He lifted his head a little bit and peered at her, looking somewhat nonplussed.

"Geez, what's got you in such a shitty mood?"

"It's just-" Satsuki inhaled, before turning back to Daiki and throwing him an exasperated pout, "-we're all going to _graduate_, Dai-chan! I thought, at least, it would be something a little meaningful…"

Daiki said nothing.

Satsuki went on, a little shakily, "It's the last time we'll all be together like this, Dai-chan…"

"Look, honestly," said Daiki. "I don't give a flying fuck."

Satsuki puffed out her cheeks and glared at him.

"I don't care," Daiki went on, "because basketball is boring. There's really no point to it. Fuck, I'm hungry. I want some bread."

Hearing this, Satsuki turned away, averting her face. She just couldn't talk to him.

"Hey, look, Satsuki, it's not your fault," Daiki said with a shrug. "Anyway, about the team, it doesn't matter because I'm not gonna play basketball next year. Hey, could you get me some bread from the cafeteria?"

Satsuki froze.

"Oi, didn't you hear what I asked you?"

Instead of responding to that, Satsuki swung around, staring wide-eyed at her childhood friend. Her heart was thumping painfully; it felt as if he had a punched a hole through it.

"Are you serious, Dai-chan?" she asked in a strained whisper. "You, quit basketball?"

Daiki frowned. It seemed that for a moment that he didn't know how to react. Then he just tossed his head back and settled back down where he had been lying on the floor.

"Well, yeah," he said in a low, almost subdued sort of tone. "You know how it is. The better I get the less fun it is. The only one who can beat me is me. It's a fucking joke. Maybe I should just do what Tetsu did and just qui-"

Satsuki slapped him.

Daiki simply stared at her. Then his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowed even further and he leaned forward so that his forehead touched against Satsuki's. With a sudden swift, furious motion, he grabbed her by the arms and pushed her to the ground. His brutal strength was just sickening to behold; even he didn't know the full extent of it.

"What'd you do that for, you idiot?" he roared.

She didn't answer. Instead, she burst into tears.

"O-Oi!" Daiki exclaimed, realising his mistake. He really hadn't meant to hurt Satsuki. "Stop that! What're you crying for? Hey! _Hey!_"

His voice sounded like a distant entity to her. Covering her face with her hands, Satsuki scrambled to her feet and ran.

* * *

The scouts from Touou High approached her the next day. They came to her house, an action that under normal circumstances would have both surprised and flattered her. The Touou scouts had really done their research.

It was the first time Satsuki met the affable, bespectacled Imayoshi. He was polite enough when he talked to her and he even treated her to lunch. It was quite obvious to her, however, that these pleasantries were punctuated by what was really on his mind: basketball.

"I'll get straight to the point," he said, after they had finished eating and had put their bowls to the side. The din of chatter in the restaurant quietened down now that the lunch hour was past, and Satsuki felt her attention heighten towards the young man before her. She knew what he was going to say and it left her feeling mildly sick in the stomach. She began to regret accepting the offer for lunch.

"We want Aomine on our team," Imayoshi said as he folded his hands together and peered at Satsuki closely. "And we want you as well."

Satsuki closed her eyes and thought of the confrontation she had had with Daiki yesterday. She had not spoken to him since, not because she was still angry at him but because the truth left her feeling sore and fragile. If there was one thing that had never changed about Daiki, it was that he always spoke the truth as he saw it. Even his arrogance was layered by utter frankness. _Especially _his arrogance.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" she asked. "To Dai-chan, I mean, Aomine-kun?"

"Yes, we have," Imayoshi admitted. "He totally brushed us off."

No surprises there. Satsuki sighed.

"I'm sorry. The Generation of Miracles are a little, well, _difficult_."

"That's fine. That's why I wanted to talk to you."

Satsuki opened her eyes. She was a little startled; Imayoshi was looking straight at her and from what she could see of his eyes, they were filled with a kind of quiet desperation.

"I'm a second year student. Next year will be my last in Touou. I know for now we're an unknown school but next year, if we have Aomine, we can make it to the nationals. I want us to win there. I want to know that feeling, just once."

It had been a long time since Satsuki had last witnessed such genuine desire. In Teikou, winning had lost so much of its meaning it had become nothing more than a conditioned reflex, an action that held no more thought than eating or breathing. And it wasn't like the other teams were that much better. They had become accustomed to a permanent state of dejected hopelessness. For them, winning a match against Teikou was like winning the grand prize in the lottery, nothing more than a vapid castle in the air.

"I'm not sure what I can do," Satsuki admitted helplessly. "Dai- I mean, Aomine-kun says he wants to quit basketball."

"We've investigated you," Imayoshi answered quickly. He smiled – an all-too-easy sort of smile that seemed to stick in one's mind like a permanent, disquieting reminder. "You and Aomine are childhood friends. If there's anyone who can convince him to do anything…"

"You're wrong," Satsuki murmured. She felt sick. "No one has that kind of power."

"But still," Imayoshi insisted quietly. "You can try, can't you?"

Satsuki thought about it. She thought about Daiki, tried to visualise that face she knew so well. For the first time, thinking of him, she felt afraid. There was a kind of hardness about his sharp, distinctive features that was genuinely chilling. This was probably how it felt to be on his opposing side.

"I really don't know," she said finally, casting her eyes to the side, noticing her hand had clenched into a trembling fist. She wondered exactly when Daiki had become someone she no longer recognised.

"I see," said Imayoshi.

Satsuki watched his face fall.

**end part 1 of 4**


	2. two

**(A/N: **So um, this came out a lot earlier than I was meaning to, but I thought _aww_ _hell why not_. Next chapter won't come out till next month, though.)

* * *

**two;**

* * *

As a woman, Satsuki blossomed in middle school. She had always been stick thin as a girl, to the point that Daiki often laughed at her about it. But when she was around thirteen, her height shot straight up and her figure filled out in all the right places. She was proud of herself for it; she had become a natural beauty.

She learned quite early on about the effect she had on boys. One couldn't be the manager of a sporting club of over one hundred teenage boys and not pick up on a few things. She was naturally observant anyway, an attribute that proved invaluable when it came to shaping the team and directing her boys to victory.

Really, until she met Tetsuya, that was all Satsuki cared about. And even then, she knew her priorities.

("It's so annoying," she complained to Daiki one day, after three boys from the second string had confessed their undying love to her during lunch break. "Don't they realise that I am Tetsu-kun's girlfriend?"

"Whatever," said Daiki, snorting.

"What do you mean _whatever_?"

"Has he even told you that he likes you?"

"Of course he has!" At this affirmation, Daiki looked a little bit surprised. "In my dreams, every night," Satsuki went on proudly.

Daiki rolled his eyes.

Satsuki huffed. "For your information," she said indignantly, "Tetsu-kun is a wonderful boyfriend. He is a _perfect gentleman_, unlike some people I could name."

"Haha," Daiki chuckled dryly.

"See! That's what I'm talking about!")

As the manager of Teikou's basketball team, Satsuki lived and died by her school's victory mantra. Even if Tetsuya and Daiki never blamed her for what happened to them, Satsuki knew she had always been on the sidelines watching the world turn monochrome. She had never even lifted a finger against all the corruption.

That, to her, was her biggest crime.

Graduation was now fast approaching and all the seniors were required to attend the ceremony rehearsals, where they practised singing the school anthem and walking up on stage. It was compulsory and not even Daiki could get away with being a no-show. "Fricken hell," Satsuki heard him mutter darkly as he shuffled into line behind her.

Hearing his voice, Satsuki couldn't help but remember her encounter with Imayoshi.

"Oi, Satsuki, think you can make up some excuse for me?" Daiki asked her hopefully.

Characteristically of Daiki, he made no reference to their fight on the rooftop. It was like he had wiped it clear from his memory banks. Satsuki knew that it wasn't because he had really forgotten – it was just that he didn't place too much weight on things like that. These days, ignoring everything and letting the negative feelings pile up was his way of saying sorry.

Satsuki tried not to let it get to her.

"Hey, Dai-chan, have you picked what school you're going to yet?" she asked casually. She chewed on the end of her hair as she spoke; it was a nervous habit of hers.

Daiki surprised her by saying, "Yeah, I'm going to Touou."

Satsuki turned around, surprised. The hair dropped from her mouth. "What, really?" Had Imayoshi and the Touou scouts already succeeded in influencing him?

"But I'm not joining the basketball team," Daiki added. "It just looks like a place where I can do what I want."

It was only then that she realised she had been holding her breath. As she exhaled, something scrunched up inside her stomach and felt as if it dropped. It was not a pleasant sensation. "Oh," she said, turning away. She searched for something to say. _Anything_. "Well, there's still time to think about it."

Daiki grunted unenthusiastically.

Perceptively, Satsuki let the subject drop.

* * *

_Tetsu-kun._

In the last few days of school, just before the graduation ceremony, Satsuki found her thoughts turning to the former phantom member of the Generation of Miracles. Tetsuya was the shadow to Daiki's light – they _knew _each other. When they played together, their rhythms resonated with the perfect tonal vibrancy of octaves sung in unison. Time was running out – she only had a matter of days before their middle school days were over. She couldn't just let things end like this.

She was backed into a corner. Tetsuya was the only one she could trust now.

But Tetsuya wasn't in the library anymore. He didn't appear to be anywhere in the school. He had slipped completely under the radar in a way that only he could manage. As for the other members of the Generation of Miracles, none of them seemed to care overmuch about their time at middle school coming to an end. Kise was sentimental, but then again, Kise was always sentimental, and besides, it seemed like he was more upset about the idea of high school entrance exams. Satsuki knew that her boys were slipping away from her.

No matter how much she wanted to slow down time, she couldn't prevent graduation. When finally, the inevitable day came, she just couldn't think anymore. Everything was numb and stretched out to uncomfortable proportions. It all seemed so distant to her.

One by one, she watched as her boys went up on stage to receive their diplomas. Later, she would only remember the whole ceremony in snippets – Midorima towering over their principal, shaking his hand with clinical precision; Kise bursting into tears as he got his photos with all the girls taken; and Daiki, sleeping through the farewell speech. Satsuki could not remember seeing Tetsuya once, no matter how desperately she searched through the swarms of people on the school ground.

At first, she was resigned; she knew he wasn't the type of person who drifted towards large gatherings. As time wore on, however, and the crowd started to thin, the frustration welled within her. She knew that if Tetsuya did not want to be found in a time like this, she would never be able to find him. Yet she couldn't stand to be with anyone else either. Before she knew it, she had run off to an empty school corridor, where she was punched the wall out of anger.

"Argh! I hate it!" As she yelled, she breathed out heavily. To her, it sounded like something in between a sob and a wheeze. But it did nothing for her; she could feel herself tensing up yet again. "I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"

"Momoi-san, please, calm down."

Satsuki jumped and yelped in surprise. Standing behind her, blinking and peering at her coolly as if he had been there this whole time, was Kuroko Tetsuya.

"Tetsu-kun! What are you doing here? I was looking for you!"

"You seemed upset."

This was the good thing about Tetsuya, Satsuki thought. _This _was why she loved him. He could actually talk about feelings and emotions with a reasonable level of competence. She just couldn't imagine confiding to anyone else in the Generation of Miracles.

(But of course, they weren't really the Generation of Miracles anymore. They had all graduated. Today.)

"I still can't believe it," she whispered. "We're _ending_, Tetsu-kun."

"Perhaps," responded Tetsuya philosophically. "But I like to think from here, the true story begins."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You couldn't see it, Momoi-san? They're all bored geniuses. They look forward to next year because they want to fight each other as rivals."

It was the first time this idea had even occurred to Satsuki. Now that she thought about it, it did make sense. This was why the graduation ceremony seemed like such an anticlimax. None of them had honestly enjoyed their time at Teikou.

"I guess that gives something for me to look forward to as well," she mused aloud, mustering a smile for the first time that day.

"I'm glad you feel better," said Tetsuya.

"But wait," Satsuki said in a low voice. The smile dropped off her face. "Dai-chan… Dai-chan said he's not playing."

Tetsuya said nothing to that.

"You have to do something, Tetsu-kun!" Satsuki insisted wildly. "You and Dai-chan were _partners_, weren't you?"

Finally, Tetsuya spoke.

"That," he said quietly, "was in the past."

"I don't care," Satsuki said through gritted teeth, her voice steely. "Together, you and I can change Dai-chan's mind. We can't let him quit, Tetsu-kun! We just can't!"

She was gripping him by the shoulders, shaking him violently. Tetsuya did not avoid her pointed gaze. He blinked and seemed deep in thought, his normally inexpressive eyes gleaming just a little bit brighter.

One of his hands rose up and held onto Satsuki's arm. Just like that, he stilled her. His touch had the feel of a gentle reprimand.

"You're right," he said. "I do not like the thought of Aomine-kun quitting either. Even though he doesn't enjoy basketball, I do not want him to quit."

"Tetsu-kun, I'm glad…"

"But nothing I say will change him now."

Satsuki opened her mouth but found she could say nothing.

Tetsuya turned away, his shoulders hunched. In Satsuki's vision, he just seemed so small and _lonely_.

"Come with me, Momoi-san," he said after a moment of contemplation. "There's something I want to show you."

* * *

It was late afternoon now, and the sun felt cool, detached, and ultimately so far away. Tetsuya walked briskly out the school gates and across the street. It gave Satsuki a small thrill of pleasure to walk with him, even as she was curious to know what he wanted to show her. Though his manner was mild, he had always been so hard to read. Today, perhaps, he was even a little more inscrutable than usual.

"Where are we going, Tetsu-kun?"

"To the courts," he said simply.

This response bemused Satsuki, but she supposed she would find out what he really meant once she got there. Stepping up in pace with Tetsuya, she realised it had been a while since she had last talked – as in _really talked_ – with him.

"Have you decided what school you're going to yet?" she asked him curiously. "I know Ki-chan's going to Kaijo, Midorin's going to Shuutoku…"

"Yes," said Tetsuya evenly. "There is a school I want to go to."

"Which one's that?"

"Seirin."

Satsuki paused and frowned. She had never heard of that school.

"It was only established this year," Tetsuya explained.

That made sense. Satsuki knew about all the high schools in the area, having researched them thoroughly yet selectively. She had paid no attention to the schools that had no reputation in basketball. She made a mental note to do some investigation on Seirin. "How do you think your exam went?" Satsuki asked, changing the topic.

"I think I did enough to pass."

"Tetsu-kun, are you still going to play basketball?"

Tetsuya stopped. "We're here," he said.

They were standing outside an outdoor basketball court. Satsuki could hear voices coming from the court below, accompanied by the sound of a basketball being bounced.

She could hear children laughing.

"How are you going to show me anything?" Satsuki asked, puzzled. "The court's already occupied."

In response, Tetsuya merely gazed at her solemnly.

"That's what I want to show you."

Satsuki opened her mouth and then closed it. She understood now. As soon as she stood still and focused on the heat of the sun against her cheeks and on the halting sounds of inefficient dribbling and above all, the _laughter_, as clear as a summer day…

"I see," she said, smiling fondly and nostalgically. Her heart felt full and heavy. "So that's where you've been these past few days, Tetsu-kun. You were watching these children."

He nodded slowly. "We were all like that once. Don't you remember, Momoi-san, how it felt in the beginning?"

Of course, _of course _she remembered. How could she not?

Her stomach lurched and it was like something in the back of her mind jerked back and swung into motion. _Click_. A perfect time machine. _Rewind and press play. _In her mind's eye, she and Daiki were children again, scrambling around trees and scraping their knees on the pavement. Daiki played basketball without any reservations, shouting in glee and pumping his fist towards the sky whenever he played well. His voice was still high-pitched back then and his grins were still broad and boyish.

"_Hey, Satsuki! Satsuki! Look! I got it in five times a row!"_

She could hear _her _voice too, responding to him, so high and eager and sweet, because she had never known anything different.

"_Oh, wow! Dai-chan, you're the greatest!"_

… Back then, she remembered, she thought Daiki had no flaws. He was strong and he was fast and he was good at basketball. He could shoot further than any boy his age and he could dribble them off the courts. When she sprained her ankle and couldn't walk, he carried her on his back and he stopped the other boys from teasing her. Back then, before Daiki fell complacent, before she came to feel like she _needed_ to take care of him, she had always thought of him as that older brother figure that could do no wrong.

Satsuki blinked, startled. Her right eye stung. She clasped her palm against her eye and felt something wet leak out of her eyelids.

Just like that, the image in her mind blurred and fuzzed. She couldn't quite reach it anymore.

"Don't you want to hear it again?" she heard Tetsuya ask beside her.

"Hear what?" she asked slowly, not daring to look at him. Her eyes were fixed on the children. There were about five of them or so and none of them could have been older than ten…

Tetsuya said, "The sound of Aomine-kun's laughter."

(Tetsuya had always, _always _cared about Daiki, perhaps more deeply than he had ever cared about himself.)

"Tetsu-kun…" she said, turning to him tearfully. "We can't go back to that time, can we?"

Tetsuya faced her too. Slowly, his mouth curled into a slight smile, as genuine a smile as she had ever seen from him.

"No," he said firmly. "But we can go forward."

Was this Tetsuya's plan? To rediscover what made basketball fun? To show that to the Generation of Miracles? Were any of them, let alone Daiki, even capable of seeing that now?

"So this is why you quit," she said softly. "Tetsu-kun, you don't hate basketball at all, do you?"

"I only hate the kind of basketball that we played at Teikou." Tetsuya's gaze swept towards the children for a brief moment, before turning back to Satsuki. "Momoi-san, I don't think my words will ever reach Aomine-kun, but I like to think that one day, my actions will."

She could only look at him, afraid to blink as if he would vanish before her eyes if she did. It was then that she remembered that out of all the members of the Generation of Miracles, Tetsuya had always worked the hardest with his basketball, making statements with his invisible passes that no one seemed to perceive, just by simple definition.

He looked back at her, his gaze unwavering. There was a short pause, and then he spoke, with a voice brimming with quiet resolve.

"I'm not quitting basketball. That is my promise to you."

It was too much for her. With a soft, muffled sob, Satsuki fell to her knees and wept. It was only then, with Tetsuya at her side and the sounds of ringing laughter and basketballs bouncing as her anthem, that she felt, for the first time, as if she had graduated from Teikou Middle School.

* * *

That was the last time she saw Tetsuya for a long while. The next time they came face to face, it was months later, and he hung around with boys Satsuki had only ever seen on videos and he wore a jersey that did not have Teikou's stripes on it. He seemed apathetic, albeit a little cautious, though he still looked her in the eyes when she talked to him. When they were alone, one of the first things that he said to her was a solemn promise to defeat her school's team.

In the long wait before she saw him again, she thought often of ringing his cellphone, just for the sake of hearing his voice. She missed him, with all the utter longing and misery that came with it. Some part of her knew, deep down, that her infatuation with Tetsuya was just that – an infatuation. But there was the infatuation and there was the camaraderie, and as someone who had always observed and supported her team from the sidelines, Satsuki knew how Tetsuya felt. Somehow, it just felt right not to talk to him. It was not what he wanted, not yet.

Perhaps it was through her silence that Satsuki knew her feelings for Tetsuya were genuine. She might not bow down and let her team lose to him, but she would do anything else for him.

He had left her with just one unspoken task. She would not allow herself to see him again until she had seen it through.

**end part 2 of 4**


	3. three

**(A/N: **I am terrible at not updating. This is for doro. Don't die before your birthday. It would suck if you did.)

* * *

**three;**

* * *

Back when they were still in middle school, Satsuki was actually thankful on very small occasions that Daiki had turned into a massive jerk. It was somewhat handy to have him around whenever she went out to attend matches – and not just because of his monstrous skill. Boys from other schools apparently possessed just as much of a weakness for girls as the Teikou students did; Satsuki couldn't remember how many times some strange boy had tried to talk to her while she was trying to use her Analyse ability. It was no use telling them that Tetsuya was her boyfriend because boys from other schools seldom noticed that Tetsuya existed at all. Satsuki couldn't bring herself to be upset about that because that was kind of the point of Tetsuya's Misdirection ability.

When Daiki was around, he scared other people off. Perhaps it had something to do with his dark skin, his narrow eyes, his tall physique and his animalistic scowl. Could be. All Daiki had to do was thumb his nose and say, "Haaaaaah?" in that lazy drawl of his and all the boys in the vicinity would run for the hills. It certainly saved Satsuki from having to deal with strange boys.

"Heh," Daiki would say at these times with undeniable smugness. "Bunch of assholes."

"Look who's talking," Satsuki retorted, but she smiled anyway. Daiki was really much more harmless than he seemed. Honestly speaking, he was one of the safest guys for her to be around.

Satsuki thought this, even though she knew beyond a shadow of doubt that her childhood friend was one of the weirdest, most perverted teenage boys in earthly existence.

Daiki knew the name, face and bra size of every single member of AKB48. He had posters of busty idols covering every square inch of his walls and his bedroom floor was littered with soiled tissues and torn pages from girly magazines. Satsuki discovered this when she was cleaning his room for him one day.

"Oi, stop looking at my stuff!" Daiki told her irritably, while he just sat lazily on his bed and turned the page of one of his magazines. Girly magazines did not count towards his 'No Book' rule. If they did, he would have considered himself a voracious reader.

"This is shameful! Dai-chan, this is totally the worst!"

"That's why you should stop looking at it."

"… Why are their boobs bigger than mine."

Daiki peered down at Satsuki from over the top of his magazine. He looked her up and down and then he snorted.

"You're getting there," he said casually.

At the time, his comment only made Satsuki roll her eyes, but later on, she found herself recollecting that little sketch of a moment in a bit more detail. It should have made her uncomfortable, knowing that Daiki noticed these things about her, but it didn't. It was just another stupid fault of his she would have to tolerate, just like everything else about him.

(It was Daiki, too, who first noticed when she had finally attained the status of the models in his magazines. He nudged her during practice and said, "F, huh?" and she whacked him for that because he deserved it.

"Do you think Tetsu-kun might notice?" she asked in the same breath, casting a hopeful glance towards Tetsuya, who was too busy tying his shoelaces to notice her looking at him.

"Why don't you go ask him?"

"Eek! No way! My feelings for Tetsu-kun are pure!"

"… Then why talk about breasts?")

In the end, Daiki was the boy she had grown up with, and she figured if she could be comfortable mentioning perverted things around him, she could also be comfortable talking about the one thing that had tied them together for as long as they had known each other.

Now that Teikou was over and done with, she was the only one who could really talk to Daiki now. Tetsuya was gone, the others too – and just like it had been in the beginning, it was down to the two of them. She was the only one who could convince Daiki to continue playing basketball.

* * *

Right from the beginning, it was an uphill battle.

Because, when it was just the two of them…

"Hey, Dai-chan, what are you gonna be when you grow up?"

"Huh? Why do you ask that?"

"Well, if you're not going to play basketball…"

"… Hmph."

"… What are you gonna be, The Idolmaster?"

"Ugh, that was lame, Satsuki."

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you!"

"Yeah, well, you can quit it. I don't need you hanging all over me twenty-four-seven."

"Hmph, you're so unbelievable! Why do I even put up with you?"

… They always ended up bickering.

The problem with Daiki was that, out of all the Generation of Miracles, he was the strongest. Where the others would derive a sense of challenge out of playing each other, Daiki was simply assured of his foreknowledge of victory. If he had ever known defeat, perhaps he would have thought differently, and yet not even telling him about Tetsuya's promise changed his mind, because Daiki was quite right in dismissing his old friend from the equation entirely. ("He can't beat me, Satsuki. He has to find someone else to be his light and there's no one as strong as me.")

Secretly, Satsuki had faith, or at least she clung to a small, vain hope. In the long idle holidays before school started at Touou, Satsuki was at Daiki's house every day. Without the occasional match to turn up to, he was even lazier than usual. He slept past noon on most days and on one occasion, she turned up to his house at around three in the afternoon, only to have Daiki's mother inform her that he was still in bed.

This all filled her with a sense of world weariness. However she was going about it, she was doing it wrong. Daiki could move mountains but he couldn't move his own lazy backside. He _frustrated _her. Why couldn't he be more like Tetsuya?

_That's it_, Satsuki thought one day. She had had enough. Daiki was the stupidest, most brutish, most asshole-dickhead-lazy-chicken-shit she had ever met in her life. She rang him up one night and told him, most forthrightly,

"Dai-chan, I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Thank Christ! And wait, what for?"

"Because you are so _stubborn _and I can't get you to do _anything _that's good for you, so I'm just giving up now, so there!"

"Yeah, whatever. I can live without you."

* * *

He didn't last two days.

To be fair, it was hard for Satsuki too. She found herself thinking at any random hour of the clock whether Daiki was actually managing to take care of himself; in her mind, he really needed someone to babysit him.

So when Daiki rang her – even though he chose the absolute _worst _moment to do it, which was while Satsuki was watching her favourite TV show, and that was _so _Daiki, stupid idiot – she felt a little relieved.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't think you were _serious_."

"Of course I was serious," she snapped, rolling her eyes, though Daiki had no way of knowing that.

"Come over," he said.

"No."

"I want you to do my bed."

"That gives me even less incentive to come over!"

Daiki grumbled. Listening to him, Satsuki felt oddly calm, contemplative, _ambivalent,_ even. There was no other way to describe the feeling that came over her.

Daiki was selfish. He was an immature brat who never did anything for himself, who constantly took her for granted, and who would never, ever say please, sorry or thank you. He was an utter genius, frustrated by the ineptitude of others, too powerful for his own body. He had never had to lift a finger to get anything in his life and still, he had everything a boy his age could reasonably ask for.

… And he was lonely.

* * *

It had to happen eventually. Perhaps it was only inevitable. The longer she tried to make him see sense, the more his eyes became blinded to something else.

At that stage, they were only really interacting with each other. Characteristically enough, Daiki never got out of his house and did much of anything. As for Satsuki, she had already begun to pour research and analysis on all the high schools that Touou would possibly play against. She investigated the current students of Seirin, Kaijo, Shuutoku and all the other schools that the separated Generation of Miracles would now attend. She never talked with any of these players, only stayed up to late hours watching them on videos, her eyes glinting with consummate analytical effort. She was surprised to find that Seirin was really a rather weak school, though it had some obvious potential, considering its team was comprised entirely of first-year students. Could Tetsuya really hope to challenge Daiki with such a weak team behind him? No point in thinking about it. It _was _Tetsu-kun – he was the one player whose growth and movements were too quadratic to predict.

Daiki would not have been interested in any of this, so she didn't mention it to him. Even back in Teikou, he had never taken note of her data. (Ironically, it was the dour, generally unfriendly Midorima who had always paid the most attention.) When she was with Daiki, spending the last days of her holidays with him, it gradually became clear to her that his mind had become fixated on something else altogether.

Daiki, she had always known, was driven almost purely by instinct. It showed in every aspect of his playing style. He never paused to think about anything, but that was perhaps because he thought through all the possible plays so quickly his body came to remember what his mind did not. He wasn't _stupid _so much as he was perilously one-track minded; and the distinction came to her one day as she was sitting around in his room, licking an icy pole stick and staring vacantly at one of his posters. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see that though Daiki was silent, he was sitting closer to her than he usually did and his eyes never left her for a moment. One could always interpret his eyes to have a hungry, lean look about them, but today it was unmistakeable.

"Dai-chan," she said, as she finished licking her ice cream clean, "you're acting weird today."

She knew what he was probably thinking about but wondered if the right thing to do was really to leave. After all, she thought she was making some progress on the basketball front. She chattered to him enthusiastically about matches she had seen on TV and he didn't tell her to shut up, which was a good sign. He didn't totally _hate _basketball, he was merely bored by it, and Satsuki hoped that if he became bored enough of his own boredom, he would return to basketball, if only for the sake of filling up time.

In response to her pointed remark, Daiki only grunted, shifting a little on his bed. There was something that was wholly alien to Satsuki about the teenage Daiki. It had nothing to do with him losing interest in basketball. She would just never understand him the way she had understood him as a child. Something told her that perhaps she didn't want to, anyway.

"Hey, Satsuki," he said suddenly. "Do you like me?"

She snorted out the ice cream stick. For a moment, she just couldn't even find it in herself to say anything. She was simply too shocked by it all.

"Huh? _What_?" she asked loudly. "No! What are you even asking that for?"

"Well," he said, turning around and closing his eyes, as if he was about to fall asleep when that was actually the farthest thing from his mind. "You know."

"I don't know."

"You're always _hanging around me_, you know. So. I just thought."

Daiki clearly had no understanding of all the _problems _he brought about on Satsuki. She didn't even know where to begin in trying to correct him, so she just threw her hands up and made a noise that sounded like _"nrrrrggghhhhhhhhhh!"_

"What?" he asked, irritably.

"You are an _idiot_, Dai-chan. You have no understanding of a woman's heart!"

"Oh, yeah. You like Tetsu."

"That's right, Dai-chan! You're learning!"

They were silent for a moment.

And then-

"Still."

"What is it now?" Satsuki asked impatiently.

"You're with me, but you're not with him. I thought you'd go to the same school as him."

Because you _need _me, Satsuki thought. Tetsuya didn't need her – he never had to, not once, ever. (Besides, she didn't like the look of that small-breasted coach from Seirin.) But Daiki was different – hadn't he pretty much demonstrated how he couldn't live without her?

He really needed to make more friends. The only reason why he was looking at her so strangely right now was because he had no one else except for his elusive idols. He was merely frustrated.

"Dai-chan, if you join the basketball club, you'll have other people to annoy, not just me," Satsuki told him. She had chosen not to respond to the comment about Tetsuya. She didn't need to.

But Daiki only looked at her, frowning. "I don't get it," he muttered. His mouth turned downward jaggedly.

Just like that, it felt like the tension in the room heightened, as if lighted by a sudden flare. It made her feel sick. She just couldn't stand it.

"Dai-chan, I'm gonna get a drink of water." She stood up quickly, but at that moment Daiki was quicker, pushing himself up off his bed with a speed she had only ever witnessed on the basketball court. She never made it to the door.

He grabbed her by the sides of her arm and just stood there, dangerously close to her. His eyes, dark and brooding, bored down on her. She could feel her pulse quicken and alarm bells ring in her head. Her breath was caught in her throat.

The second that passed felt like an hour. Then Daiki seemed to regain control of himself because after a moment he paused and blinked, and then turned away. "Shit," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Just do what you want."

Her heart in her mouth, Satsuki nodded and went downstairs.

* * *

And even after _that_, she couldn't leave him. But she was hesitant about being alone with him because she just didn't know what Daiki would _do_. Oh, he was so different from Tetsuya.

The next time she went over to see him, her heart was pounding in trepidation. She had a terrible sense of timing. When Satsuki arrived, Daiki's mother was as pleasant and as polite as ever (she was honestly the sweetest, kindest lady Satsuki had ever met – how did she give _birth _to such a slob?) and Satsuki wondered what had changed in Daiki's house. Maybe it was really a change in her.

She crept up to his room quietly, her hands held protectively in front of her, her feet ready to turn around and skip away at any moment. When she reached the door, she paused before opening it. Hesitating here was something she had never done before. She stayed there, put her ear against the knob – and listened.

It was silent. At first, she thought Daiki wasn't there at all, but after a moment, she could hear him breathing. That was fine, wasn't it? Was he sleeping?

His breathing became louder, slowly picking up in volume until it was deafening. Or maybe she was straining her ears to listen. If she pulled away, she wouldn't be able to hear it. Yet some kind of morbid fascination held her; she didn't know how long she stood there. For all the years Satsuki had been something of a spy for Teikou, this was the first time she felt as if she was prying.

Before long, she heard him speak in a low voice, deeper and more guttural than she was used to hearing from him. He was panting too. That was what the heavy breathing really was.

He was calling out her _name_.

She didn't open the door. She stood stock still, staring at her hand, which was hovering over the doorknob. In horror, she pulled it away, flinching and rubbing at her hand as she did.

_Tetsu-kun, _she thought, desperately. _I'm sorry, Tetsu-kun._

_I don't think I can do it after all._

**end part 3 of 4**


	4. four

**four;**

* * *

Daiki never had ambitions, even when he was a child. If you had asked him if he wanted to be the best at basketball, he would have said, in that carefree tone of voice of his: "Maybe, I dunno." Daiki didn't care about winning – he simply never thought that far ahead. Right up until he entered middle school, his basketball was the product of raw talent and aimlessness.

Maybe, in the end, he was just looking for a rival. Daiki never did find anyone who matched him. Kise came somewhat close (by objective standards, his rate of improvement was simply monstrous) but for Daiki, it just wasn't good enough. No one was good enough.

"You know," he mentioned to Satsuki once, not long after Tetsuya had quit the basketball club. "Tetsu said I'd find a rival one day."

"Do you believe him?"

"Nah," said Daiki. "Not really."

He stretched himself out on the rooftop – nonchalantly, languidly, and without a hint of ambition.

"But it would be nice, don't you think?" Satsuki said to him. "If you had a rival…"

He didn't say anything to that for a while. His eyes were closed. Satsuki honestly thought he was asleep.

But then Daiki shifted a little where he lay. His mouth twitched slightly and his monosyllabic response said more than Satsuki could ever ask for.

"Yeah…"

It was then that Satsuki thought that perhaps Daiki did have his ambitions, however vague and unrealised. Maybe he always did want to believe in Tetsuya. It was simply the case that every night, he just drifted off into a dreamless sleep that he never really woke up from. He had always been such a heavy sleeper.

* * *

But Satsuki dreamed.

Her dreams were of two types: they were hard or soft, shadowy or lit, gritty or idealistic; they were about basketball or they had nothing to do with it at all. Tetsuya featured in her dreams often but not constantly. In them, he held her hand. Satsuki knew Tetsuya's hands well because she had measured them a couple of times for her data. They were small yet clever hands – deceptive, even – for the backs of them were soft and pliant and the palms and fingertips were hard and calloused from handling the ball too often. Tetsuya had a basketballer's hands. Much as she fantasised about his hands holding hers in a romantic light, in her dreams, they never did anything more than rest limply over her outstretched fingertips.

There was once when Satsuki dreamed of Daiki's hands instead. His had a way of swamping hers. One could feel the _power _in Daiki's hands, even when he did not use them for anything. In the dream, Satsuki was not afraid of them but she was looking around for Tetsuya and was disappointed not to find him.

"Satsuki," said Daiki in her dream, his voice low and urgent. "_Satsuki_."

She could not pull away from the hand. "Why can't you be like how you were before?" she asked him.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Satsuki," he said simply.

She wanted to say that she knew that, but this was a dream and the thought did not occur to her. Instead, she sat still and silent as Daiki lifted his hands. She could not see him; she could only feel the weight of his touch. When she turned around, the scene had changed and she was back in his room, breathing in his familiar earthy scent.

"Dai-chan," she heard herself say. "Where are you?"

But Daiki was not there. Instead, there was Tetsuya. He sat patiently on the bed, his blank gaze boring into her. Then he reached out one hand and held it high, beckoning her towards him.

"I have always wished for you to be happy, Momoi-san," he said.

She seldom ever remembered him saying anything in her dreams.

Her stomach was writhing about in sweet, goo-like agony. She came near and he put his hand on her head, and she could feel his breath rolling down her neck. It was warm. Tetsuya was so very warm.

But somewhere along the lines, the very nature of his touch changed. She could feel it prickling coldly along her skin. When she looked up, Tetsuya was gone and only the feeling of the touch remained. This time, it was an embrace, fervently performed, one that threatened to crush the air out of her lungs. It was no longer Tetsuya's touch, but then again, it didn't always need to be.

In the dream, Satsuki closed her eyes and did not feel anything anymore.

* * *

As the manager for Teikou's basketball team, Satsuki had never had much time for making friends with girls. She could list twenty guy friends she liked and respected before she could come up with one girl. She had never been very popular with girls anyway. Perhaps owing to a combination of her womanly figure and by the fact that she consorted with the likes of Kise (who was easily the most popular boy in the school) on a constant basis, she had to admit the girls were rather catty with her.

The sentiment went both ways. She certainly had better things to do than to try and get along with girls who would be jealous of her no matter how she tried to please them. Boys were different. She _liked _boys. Okay, so maybe they had perverted things on their minds most of the time and usually their eyes were fixated on her breasts rather than on what she was saying, but she liked boys because of how endearingly simple they could be. They were straightforward. She respected that about them.

It was funny how just one small event could threaten to twist her entire outlook inside out.

After the Daiki incident, Satsuki found herself wishing she had girl friends instead. This was a first for her. In fact, it posed a rather difficult dilemma. She knew the way to fix Daiki's problem was to introduce him to different girls, but the problem was that she had deliberately not kept in contact with any of the girls from Teikou.

Fortunately, Satsuki was quite a creative thinker along with being a brilliant analyst and after a moment of thought, she came up with the easiest solution possible.

She rang up Kise.

"Ki-chan! Ki-chaaaaaaan! How are you?" she said, giggling into her phone, and was relieved when greeted her back just as cheerfully. He hadn't changed at all. "Listen up, Ki-chan! There's something I'd feel so happy about if you did it for me."

"And what's that?" Kise asked her. She could practically _hear _him beam into his phone.

"I want you to introduce me to some girls, Ki-chan!"

He went quiet.

"Ki-chan?"

"Girls, Momoi?" He sounded like he couldn't quite believe his ears.

"Of course! I was just thinking how tired I am about being around you smelly boys all the time."

"That's…" Kise looked like he was searching for something truly enlightening to say here. "That's really hot, Momoi."

She almost hung up right then and there. But she continued because – _Dai-chan needs me_. "I meant as friends, Ki-chan."

"Oh." He sounded a little disappointed. "Well, that's fine, I guess. Sure."

She wondered how Kise would react if he knew that this was part of her ploy to get Daiki to play basketball again. Because Daiki was stupid and she was stupid and instead of helping things, her involvement had made them more complicated instead. Time was running out. She had only a matter of days before high school started.

When she told Daiki that she wanted him to meet up with three girls on the weekend, he was naturally rather taken aback. At first, Satsuki thought that he would refuse to go, just because he was ornery like that, but then he simply shrugged. "Got nothing better to do," he said grudgingly, to which Satsuki breathed a mental sigh of relief.

She went with him for the date, simply because she wanted to keep an eye on him, though she made sure to dress down in a loose-fitting jumper for the occasion. When she turned up to the station, she spotted the three girls right away. They were Kaijo girls; Satsuki knew that from her data. They were all bubbly-faced and cute (Kise evidently liked the cute types) and while they were waiting, they were talking to each other in high-pitched, animated voices.

Daiki gave her an odd glance. Somehow, Satsuki suspected that this was not going to go down as well as she hoped.

As usual, her woman's intuition was absolutely correct.

"Oh, you're Kise-kun's friends, aren't you?" said the first girl when she spotted them. She seemed amiable enough, though she seemed to regard them both cautiously. "I thought Kise-kun was going to come too."

"He has other commitments," said Satsuki. Kise was a rare type; cheering helped him focus. He befriended the girls who supported him, talked to them – but did not spend a good deal of time with them. Most likely, he was preparing for the new season. Kise was a hard worker.

All three girls cast disappointed glances with each other. Then they all forced smiles on their faces as they turned to Daiki.

"So what's your name?" the second girl asked politely.

Daiki yawned and scratched himself before he replied with his name. Satsuki wanted to shake him. He was doing it all wrong.

In fact, he could hardly look more disinterested. He slouched when they sat down to eat and he gave minimalistic responses to any question directed his way. Naturally, conversation soon became awkward. The only reason Satsuki could possibly have wanted to be there was out of hope that she could salvage the situation somehow. Otherwise, it was painful to watch.

"So, you three like basketball, huh?" Satsuki said brightly, in an effort to break the awkward silence.

"Well, to be honest, none of us really play," said the first girl with a sheepish smile. "But we've watched Kise-kun and we think he's really amazing! I bet there's no one out there who's better than him."

"Yeah, there is," Daiki interrupted her. "There's me."

This was the factually correct thing to say. Socially, it was suicide. Satsuki elbowed him in the ribs.

"What was that for?" he demanded gruffly.

Satsuki was conscious that the girls were looking at him strangely.

"Don't say things like that, Dai-cha-!" She stopped. She didn't want to seem intimate with Daiki in front of these girls. "Aomine-kun!"

"What are you calling me that for? It's weird, Satsuki."

"You seem close," said the second girl, giggling.

"Childhood friends," Satsuki said, unable to keep the exasperation out of her voice. The damage had already been done. Her ship was sinking. "Anyway," she went on hurriedly, trying wilfully to ignore Daiki's stare. "Ki-cha… I mean, Kise-kun is very strong. I've been watching him since he was a freshman in middle school. He improved a lot in three years."

"Oh!" exclaimed the third girl. "Then… you're just like us, aren't you, Satsuki-san? Just an observer?"

Satsuki blinked. There had been far, far more to being Teikou's manager than simply observing. It didn't seem like it was such a big deal to point out, though, so she just smiled and was about to change the subject when-

"Bullshit."

All four heads turned to look at the speaker in surprise. Daiki was still slouching in his chair, not looking particularly engaged in the conversation. He shrugged.

"Satsuki's not just an observer – she's an athlete too, just like Kise is."

This was something Daiki had often said about her back when he played regularly on the team. Even though he never made use of her data, he was still aware of what it did and the lengths she pursued to obtain it. Anyone from Teikou's basketball team would have made the same remark as Daiki's.

Satsuki smiled. She promptly stopped doing it because of what Daiki said next.

"Well, I'm bored. Later."

And with that, he shuffled off with his hands in his pockets. There was a lengthy moment of silence at the table as he did this. Then Satsuki stood up as well.

"I have to go too," she announced hurriedly.

It was only then, as she cast one last glance towards the flabbergasted girls, did she realise the one key factor behind Daiki's disinterest: they were all A cups.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Daiki was rather unimpressed when Satsuki caught up with him later. "I don't see why you dragged me out to see those chicks," he said to her afterwards. "All they did was natter on about _Kise_."

"I thought you needed to get out more," Satsuki responded with a huff. She was not used to her plans failing. It felt like such a blow to her ego.

"Besides," Daiki went on darkly. "I don't care about them, I only want-"

He stopped.

Just like that, the events of the other day came back to Satsuki with full force and the simple recollection of it left her reeling slightly. Daiki turned his head away slightly and made some other unrelated comment, but she didn't quite hear it properly. It was like everything had zoned out and all she could focus on was the grey-coloured memories in the back of her mind.

Her heart sank. She wasn't oblivious, _oh god _she wasn't oblivious. She scrunched her eyes shut, trying to think. Being out in public was one thing, but how could she let herself be near Daiki now? She thought she was so close, _so close _to bringing him back from the brink…

"Oi, Satsuki." Daiki's voice snapped her out of her reverie. "What's got you all worked up?"

… Did he really have the nerve to ask that? _Really?_

Satsuki sighed. Only moments after she did that, she clenched her teeth and pressed her lips together anxiously. She could feel some odd sort of climax approaching between them. Something would need to be addressed. Something needed to come out in the open. Soon.

She looked up at Daiki and in that moment, he didn't look all that _strange _to her. He was just his normal, lazy self, just stretched out staring at the sky with absolutely no sense of purpose. Maybe it was different, not being cooped up in his room with him. They had stopped at a park close to home and she was swinging herself idly on the swing. She could remember when they were young how often she had demanded that Daiki push her.

As she watched him, his eyes shifted to the side and his gaze met hers and she could feel the lust there, still lying under the surface.

She stopped. All she could hear was the sound of the swing screeching to a halt.

Her mind was building up to some kind of frenzy and before she could follow the whole process through, she blurted out:

"Dai-chan, if I… if I…"

"If you what?" he asked confusedly.

"If I liked you, what would you do then? Would you join the basketball team?"

"… Huh?"

"I mean…!" Satsuki swallowed. She had no idea what she was saying. All she knew that it was _important_. Maybe she could fulfil her promise to Tetsuya after all. Maybe Imayoshi could learn about how it felt to win at nationals. (And herself. She would do it for herself, too.) "Dai-chan! I'd do anything for you if you joined the basketball team in high school. I really would."

"So?"

He really didn't get it. Did she really have to spell it all out for him? She groaned inwardly at the thought.

She had to do it. She had made up her mind. Besides, there was no going back from here. If she did, everything between her and Daiki would become awkward, because all the unspoken things would just keep piling up.

Their friendship had reached its climax and its ultimate testing point. After this, they might never be friends again.

"Dai-chan, if you joined the team, I'll let you do anything you want to me." She gasped and then added quickly, "As long as it's not so… well… you can see my boobs and that's it!"

There was a pause.

And then-

"What?"

"Whaaaat?"

"I mean, seriously, what?"

"I don't get it, what?"

They were staring at each other incredulously. "My god," said Daiki. And then, unexpectedly, he started snickering. "Are you serious?"

"… Yes."

Her heart was pounding. Okay, maybe she wasn't so sure about this.

"Who'd want to see your saggy tits?"

Satsuki blanched. That was an unexpected reaction. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, okay, sure, I admit it. I was perving on you. But I can't believe you actually said that."

Satsuki bristled. "Let's get this straight! My first time is only for Tetsu-kun! So it's not like you're allowed to do anything weird. You're not-!"

Daiki leaned forward at that moment and kissed her.

It was so startling she almost fell backwards off the swing. If she had been given more time to build it up in her head, she might have felt something. As it was, she was just incredibly confused.

"Dai-chan, you, you…!" Now she wanted to strangle him. "Damn it, that was for Tetsu-kun, too!"

It was really just a simple peck on her lips. She was surprised as she scrambled to wipe her lips to find that there was no saliva. Her lips just felt a little bit tingly. That was all.

As for Daiki, well…

Daiki was _laughing_.

He had doubled over and he was pointing at her no doubt shell-shocked expression.

"Would you look at your face?" he snorted. He was grinning. (_He was really grinning.)_

Satsuki couldn't help it. His laughter was infectious. She burst out into an incontrollable fit of giggles and this time, she actually did fall off the back of the swing and that made her laugh even harder. Just like that, everything that had happened up until now felt so _stupid _to her – she had been worrying over _nothing_. What had come over her?

She didn't know how long the moment lasted. She felt helpless. As soon as she thought she was finished, she caught sight of Daiki's face and that was all it took for her to crack up once again. All she could think was that she had found what she was looking for at last.

* * *

"Why'd you do that, Dai-chan?" she asked him later, as they were walking back from the park with the sun setting behind them.

They were both still chuckling. Later on, Daiki would be back to his usual scowling, apathetic self, but for now, the Dai-chan of old was back. Maybe he had been there all along, just waiting for the right occasion to surface. She wanted to savour the moment, but at the same time, she couldn't help but remember Tetsuya's words. There was no going back.

"I just… felt like I needed to get that out of my system," he said with a shrug. "It's not like I wanna go out with you or anything like that. Don't get the wrong idea."

"No, I get it," she said. She was smiling.

"Oh, yeah," he went on, looking away, as if just remembering something. "I'm gonna join the basketball club."

"What, Dai-chan? Really? _Really?_"

"Don't look so excited. I just need to kill some time, that's all. And you're right. I need someone else to annoy. I can't stand looking at your ugly face sometimes."

Satsuki let him off the hook for that comment, but that was only because she was in a good mood. If he had said it under any other circumstance, she would have thrown him off a bridge.

But she _did _still kick him in the shins. And he did curse loudly in reaction.

In the end, she thought, perhaps her first kiss was a small price to pay. She didn't think she would ever forget just how _close _she and Daiki had come to stepping across that unspoken yet very definitive line. The one that separated friendship and… whatever lay beyond. But for now, it just wasn't important. She had managed to get him to join the basketball team, after all, even if he _was_ going to sit around and play hooky all year round.

Yet for now, she had seen him laugh again. It was just once, but it was enough. She would tie this memory up close to her heart, let it lie there until it wedged itself a permanent corner that she would take to her grave. It was, above anything else, an assurance…

Tetsuya would have been so proud of her.

* * *

The new school year began, and in Touou High, the cherry blossoms were blooming. Satsuki was proud of her new uniform and her new role in the scheme of things and, to no one's surprise, she was a hit with the club members. Equally to no one's surprise, Daiki didn't turn up to the first practice – or any other practice after that. He spent his lunchtimes lying on the rooftop sleeping and occasionally, he would even bring his girly magazines to school.

To his secret delight, Daiki did indeed find someone new to annoy. His name was Sakurai Ryo and perhaps Daiki took a shine to him because he was small, effeminate-looking and doe-eyed, just like a girl. (Daiki still had no female friends besides Satsuki.) Satsuki didn't think Sakurai would believe her if she told him that Daiki's relentless bullying was really his way of expressing his friendship. And, well, Daiki _was _a bit of a dickhead. No getting around that.

Time inched forward, little by little. Satsuki was surprised to find how much she _liked _Touou. It really was, in many ways, similar to how Teikou had been, only this school hadn't yet discovered how dim victory could feel and it was easy to get swept along by her earnest team mates and their bright, fanciful dreams.

But all the same, Satsuki never forgot Teikou. Sometimes, when she was in the mood for nostalgia, she put on the videos of the Generation of Miracles in their glory days. In the videos, all her boys were as large as life; their forms were spectacular and their zeal for the game was evident on their faces. That, of course, was only true in their early matches, when the scores were closer and the action was frantic.

When she watched the videos, Satsuki thought of Tetsuya and his promise. She wondered how he was doing. How _everyone _was doing. She still talked to them on the odd occasion, but it wasn't like they were really a team anymore and that thought hung over them all like a perpetual haze.

It was Daiki, along with the endless amount of new problems that he caused her, that distracted her from really thinking too deeply about the past. Otherwise, she might have thought on it and dwelt upon her nostalgia forever. Instead, she was busy every day, waiting, preparing…

(That year, Tetsuya told her that he would defeat Daiki. She didn't believe him because neither the data nor her intuition told her that it was really possible. But even so, it was what she was waiting for. When Tetsuya promised her that he would defeat Daiki, Satsuki couldn't help but think that he was the knight who had come to her rescue.

And until that day came, when the curse of Teikou had lifted from the Generation of Miracles, Satsuki would stay by Daiki's side, waiting and hoping. Endlessly.)

**Fin**

_To us, everything is motionless because moving forward is the only thing we've ever known._

* * *

**Acknowledgments: **This story is dedicated to **doroniasobi**, who I love with the power of ten thousand suns. I'd also like to thank **AquaJet, **who encouraged me constantly as I wrote the first draft, and **The Jabberer**, who proofread the story and crushed my Aomine-like ego. (lol.)

I'd also like to especially thank you, the reader, for reading this all the way to end. It means a lot to me.

**Small note: **I'm thinking of doing a follow-up story to this. I wouldn't call it a sequel, exactly; it will be a standalone story set after the Winter Cup. I still haven't yet worked how I feel about Aomine and Momoi as a couple. I find their relationship very charming to write about, though, mostly because it strikes a very personal chord with me. I don't think I'm done with them yet – but as for whether I'll write gen or romance, that's something only the future can decide.


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